


From an Outside Perspective

by Jennsepticeye



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Canon Temporary Character Death, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Suicidal Thoughts, outside perspective, story told through letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 13:53:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17868500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennsepticeye/pseuds/Jennsepticeye
Summary: Decades after the deaths of Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers, archivist Audrey Lamar finds something incredible.





	From an Outside Perspective

Aubrey Lamar was beyond thrilled. As a historical archivist there weren’t very many exciting assignments but this one really was something else. She was being entrusted with the foot locker of Margaret Carter.

It had nearly been lost, put in the attic and left behind when the family moved to a new house. It wasn’t rediscovered for another two years. The new family held onto it for a time until it was shipped to the Smithsonian, with a blessing from the legend herself. It was archived unopened for decades, and now Aubrey was going to be the first person to see its contents in a long time.

It didn’t stand out from other foot lockers of the era, drab green with _M. Carter_   _SSR_ stenciled on the side. It was dusty and the paint was flaking in some places, but it was what was inside that would make it so special.

The contents were understandably varied from those of other soldiers, she would have had little reason for Barbasol, safety razors, or pinups. In their place was hair curlers, dried red lipstick, and a comb. Tucked into the seam of the lid was a photograph of her and the famous Howling Commandos, smiling brightly in softened sepia tones.

Aubrey took careful pictures of everything as it was, then changed her cotton gloves so the dust wouldn’t stain.

The clothes came out first, carefully unfolded onto large empty tables. They were in excellent condition. Sealed from the elements, everything in the trunk was in phenomenal condition. Aubrey photographed everything again. Her advisor always said you could never have too many. Underneath the third and last olive-green skirt was another green box. Aubrey took down her notes.

                Three (3) SSR uniform tops belonging to one Margaret Carter

                Three (3) SSR Uniform skirts belonging to one Margaret Carter

                One Aluminum letter box containing the following…

She pulled the letter box out carefully, some papers shifted around inside. Aubrey unlatched it. Though the hinges screeched with age, it opened easily. She pulled out the stack of papers. Most of it was thin, army issued paper, brittle and yellowed with age. The topmost page was covered from top to bottom in loopy script. They must have been out of order because it started in the middle of a sentence.

> _“-believe it. There’s a dame here I think you’d really like. Peggy Carter. She’s a firecracker if I’ve ever seen one. My first day here she punched another cadet for mouthing off. She’s the only one here who doesn’t look at me weird, everyone else stares at me like I’m weak. Maybe I can’t do too many pushups, but I’m not weak._
> 
> _I know if I ever get this letter to you, you’re gonna have that look on your face, the one that says ‘you may not be weak but you’re a stupid punk’_
> 
> _Maybe I am but I’m your stupid punk-“_

                Romantic Letter to ? from ?

It’s clear that Carter hadn’t written the letter and it wasn’t written too her. For some reason she had someone else’s letter. Aubrey put the page aside and moved onto the next in the stack. It was a piece of butcher paper, a wrapping from something else. Someone had taken advantage of its thickness to draw. It was a sketch of the inside of an apartment in charcoal and pencil. The detail was incredible. On the back was a letter in the same looped script.

> _“Bucky,_
> 
> _So you don’t forget your roots, yeah? Your roots in a trashy apartment in Brooklyn. Everyone at the Queen Ann’s has been asking about you. They wanna know when they’ll get to see their favorite customer again. ~~I miss you too.~~ I haven’t been sick lately, and Betty down the hall helped me through an asthma attack the other day.  I know you’ll be glad to hear that. I hope you’re doing swell at Basic without me. You’re not allowed to win the war without me. _
> 
> _I miss you a lot. I miss you so much it hurts sometimes. N ~~ow I can’t send this cause of the screenings.~~ I hope you know how much I love you. You told me not to do anything stupid till you got back but I’m gonna enlist again, so don’t do anything stupid until I can be there with you._
> 
> _With love from Brooklyn,_
> 
> _Steve.”_

Aubrey put down the letter and stood quickly, pacing her workroom. _What the fuck?_ If she could authenticate this letter, then it would have massive repercussions in the Rogers and Barnes relationship debate. She wanted to scream, jump up and down. Her skin was buzzing as she sat down to continue. That letter was dated when Barnes was in basic, the next was dated a day later.

> _“Bucky,_
> 
> _Liza gave me the idea and honestly, I’d take anything at this point. I know you’ll hate it, but I got a job at the munition’s factory. The people here are so nice to me and I’m glad to be doing something. Anything. Nevermind. I’ll tell you once you’re back home. This is stupid. I love you._
> 
> _With love from Brooklyn,_
> 
> _Stella”_

It was in the same loopy script as the ones before but signed Stella. It was common practice for homosexual couples to write each other using pseudonyms during World War II but it looked like this letter had never been sent. It made Aubrey curious how Rogers and Barnes had actually communicated during the time, whether they committed to the pseudonym or if they sent strictly platonic letters. Aubrey set it aside as well.

The next piece was another illustration on butcher paper, this time of a woman folding laundry, hair in curlers. It was dated while Barnes was in Basic training as well. It was unmistakably Rogers’s style. On the back the words were scribbled out, like he had thought better of what he wrote and made them completely illegible.

The top third of the next paper had another illustration, this one of the outside of a housing tenement. Later research would reveal that it was Rogers’s and Barnes’s apartment building.  A letter began at the bottom.

> “ _Bucky,_
> 
> _You’re not going to believe it, I actually enlisted. I’m at Basic now. I did it, and I told you so, and I didn’t get arrested. I knew you wouldn’t-“_

                Aubrey put that with the incomplete letter from before. They were the same paper, same handwriting. Pieces were still missing but something remarkable was unfolding in front of her eyes. A whole undiscovered side of history. She needed to make some calls. She locked up her workspace and headed home.

~*~

                Aubrey was back bright and early the following morning. So early that she had to wait for a security guard to open the door for her. She set to work on the pile of letters again. Next on the pile was written in Rogers handwriting, but bigger, rushed and emotional.

> _“Bucky,_
> 
> _I can hear Becca yelling at me ~~already because I let this happen~~. You’re a stupid jerk, you know that? The night you left you told me not to do anything stupid until you got back, and I told you it was impossible since you were taking all the stupid with you. I wish you hadn’t. Fuck, Bucky, you can’t be dead. You just can’t be. I can’t live without you. I need you to be okay. Please be okay.”_

                It was dated after Bucky was captured in Azzano, and clearly not meant to be seen by anyone. A diary of sorts. There were water stains on the paper. Rogers had been crying while he wrote it, and now Aubrey was blinking back tears. Crying on historical artifacts is not how she wanted to be fired. Next on the pile was a portrait of Barnes in his dress uniform. It was dated before Barnes shipped out and before Roger’s successfully enlisted. Barnes was smiling at the artist, a besotted expression. There was a message written at the bottom, more pointed, most likely written by Barnes.

>                                 “ _To remember me by. Forever yours, punk.”_

                 The next few papers were written in a diary style as well. The first was dated just after the formation of the Howling Commandos. The paper was a blank leaflet from the back of a book, so browned with age it was hard to read the pencil.

> _“Buck,_
> 
> _I almost think a blue discharge would be worth it at this point. I haven’t been able to kiss you in nearly a year. I didn’t think about the consequences of Dr. Erskine’s procedure but there are things I miss about being small. Things I miss about being that little guy from Brooklyn. When I was sick and out of my mind with fever and you would curl around me and hold me close. I miss putting the blankets on the floor so the neighbors wouldn’t hear us. I miss the feel of you.”_

                Aubrey felt like she was intruding on something private, intimate. Like she didn’t belong even though it had happened nearly a century ago. The next was dated the day before Barnes fell to his death in the French Alps.

> _“Bucky,_
> 
> _I love you so much. You’re the greatest man I’ve ever known. I hope you know that. I’m so proud of you and what we’ve done. When the war is done, I’m gonna learn how to dance. You’re the right partner for me. We’ll go to the Queen Ann and you’ll get drunk and we’ll Lindy Hop until the sun comes up. I can’t wait to step on your toes.”_

                There were only three papers left in the pile, none of them dated after Barnes’s death.  The top was dated during the Captain America USO bond tour. The paper had blue stars printed in the corners and Rogers had drawn a row of cartoon chorus girls across the bottom of the paper.

> _“Bucky,_
> 
> _This is so strange, Captain America is a smash hit, but some things… I’m praying that they’re the only ones who can tell, but I think the chorus girls figured out I’m queer. They don’t even bother making me leave when they change and Beth ~~, who I think may be queer herself~~ , keeps pointing out handsome men in the crowd to me.  ‘Stevie, lie low. If we don’t make a ruckus then our private life stays private.’ Well, I kinda wish I could tell the world. I wish I could scream it from the mountains how much I love you. I’m an optimistic punk, but I’m an optimistic punk who loves you.”_

                The second to last paper starts with another illustration. It’s a sketch of two rings, the words “Till the end of the line” inscribed on the outside. They’re wedding rings.

> _“Bucky,_
> 
> _I know this is stupidly dangerous, but I’m stupid so I’m going to write it anyway. I am deliriously in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since you punched out Tommy Perkins to protect me in sixth grade. No one else paid any attention to the skinny asthmatic, except to beat me up. You were different though. You actually liked me for me._
> 
> _When Dr. Erskine asked me why I was so keen to fight I told him I didn’t like bullies. It’s why I joined Project Rebirth. That was mostly true, but I had another reason. You. You spent so much of our lives protecting me, saving me. Just once I wanted to protect you. Maybe we can’t do it officially, or publicly, but I want to marry you Bucky Barnes. I want to be it for you. Till the end of the line, because you’re everything to me._
> 
> _Forever Yours,_
> 
> _Steve”_

                Aubrey had to take a break, or she was going to cry all over these priceless historical artifacts. Her phone rang while she was in the cafeteria.

“Hello?” She answered

“Hello. Is this Aubrey Lamar?” It was a man on the other end of the line. _Please don’t be a telemarketer._

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Thank goodness. I was told you may be in possession of some of my belongings.”

“Some of your…?” She trailed off. _Oh my god._ “Oh! Yes. Yes, I am. Do you think you could come by this afternoon?”

                As soon as the conversation ended, Aubrey was back to work. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy at this point but there was only one letter left and she was a curious person. It was written in Barnes’s handwriting and dated the same as the rings. In the middle of the war.

> _“Stevie,_
> 
> _You’re right. You’re a stupid punk. A stupid punk that I am deliriously in love with. I read that letter you wrote. Someday, once we win the war, we’ll get married. I paid attention to you because you are so special, always were. You were special even before you were as big as a small mountain._
> 
> _When this is all over, we’ll get an apartment somewhere far away where no one knows our names. We’ll die old as those suspiciously eligible bachelors. I love you._
> 
> _Your favorite jerk,_
> 
> _Bucky”_

                There was a knock at the door and Aubrey startled. She hadn’t realized how long she had been rereading Barnes’s letter. Steve Rogers was at the door. She let him in.

“Captain Rogers, pleasure to meet you.”

“Just Steve please.” He shook her hand.

Aubrey nodded, “Everything is over here.” She led him to the large tables where the letters were laid out neatly. Ca- Steve had a hand over his mouth, like he was face to face with a ghost. She flinched when he picked up the portrait of Barnes without gloves but didn’t say anything. It was his stuff anyway.

“Where did all this come from?” Steve’s voice was so quiet and broken. Without the uniform he looked impossibly small.

“Agent Carter donated her SSR foot locker to the archive in the 1980s. These were in a letter box inside.”

Steve nodded, setting the picture down. “Peggy knew about us. I told her to keep them safe if I didn’t make it off of the Valkyrie.”

Aubrey smiled softly. “I haven’t officially logged anything but her uniforms. They’re yours if you’d like them back.”

                He looked at her, eyes wide and shiny. He looked like he was two seconds from bursting into tears, and Aubrey really didn’t think she could handle seeing a national hero cry. “Really?”

“Look, Cap- Steve. The way I see it, they’re yours anyway, and they seem to mean a great deal to you. It didn’t seem right to just put these out  to the public without contacting you first. Clearly you and Sargent Barnes weren’t planning on telling anyone.”

“Miss Lamar-“

“Aubrey, please.”

“Aubrey, I-I can’t thank you enough for this. I never thought I’d see these again.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I could return them to their rightful owner.”

Steve smiled. “He would have liked you.” Aubrey didn’t need to ask who.

~*~

                It was one of those stories she would tell her grandkids when she retired. How she returned long lost love letters to the one and only Captain America, but at the time it was something she could be fired for, so she kept it to herself. She didn’t think about it much, she tried not to, until nearly three years later.

                Aubrey had never been eager to take a day off. She loved her job, but apparently not using any of her sick days ever was detrimental to the institution. It meant that they didn’t want to have to pay her for all that extra time. So she decided to make the most of it. She was going to have a self-care day.

                She was deeply engrossed in a mug of Lady Grey and an episode of Criminal Minds when there was a knock at the door. Standing outside her apartment was none other than Steve Rogers. Behind him was a long-haired brunet man. He was wearing a cap and sunglasses indoors and his right hand was gripped in Steve’s left.

“Steve. It’s nice to see you.” She said, opening the door for them to come in.

“It’s nice to see you too, Miss Lamar.” He gave her a showstopping smile.

“I told you to call me Aubrey. Please have a seat you two.” The pair sat with ramrod posture, a soldier’s posture. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I want to make a donation to the Smithsonian. I was told you still work there.”

It was then that she noticed the familiar aluminum letter box tucked under his arm. “Steve, you don’t have to-“ she began.

“I want to. I made copies for myself, and besides, I have the real thing right here.” He  nudged his partner with an elbow. The other man sighed, taking off his sunglasses and hat and Aubrey suddenly understood because looking right at her was Sargent James “Bucky” Barnes.

                On the surface he looked like he hadn’t aged a day since the news reels, but his eyes looked older and more haunted than she had the words to describe. He held onto Steve like a lifeline, practically sitting on him. Steve was giving him the most taken look she’d ever seen.

“Pleasure to meet you ma’am.” His voice was sandpapery, like he didn’t talk much. He didn’t move to shake her hand.

Aubrey smiled at them. “This is awesome. I’m so happy for you two.”

Steve rubbed his neck bashfully, there was a glint of silver on his ring finger. If Aubrey was a betting woman, she would bet “Till the end of the line” was inscribed in the metal.

“I can’t thank you enough for what you did for us. Besides, outing Captain America is bound to earn you quite the promotion.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I even tracked down a few more letters, and I know you’ll take care of them.” 

                Steve and Barnes didn’t stick around long. They made their excuses and left the box on her coffee table. Aubrey wanted to open it so badly, but she couldn’t risk damaging them because she didn’t have the proper equipment.

                As soon as her forced holiday was over, Aubrey is back in her workroom, carefully pulling the stack from the box with a sense of déjà vu. She set aside everything she’d already read.

                The first was written by Barnes and dated before his capture in Italy.

> _“Stevie,_
> 
> _I have no god damned clue why you would ever want to fight in this war. It’s cold as shit and smells like it too. It’s so fucking miserable, and it would wreak havoc on your lungs. I’m glad now more than ever that you’re home safe. I know if you ever read this, you’ll have that look on your face, that pissed off one you get when you think I’m treating you like a dame, but I can’t lose you. I didn’t lose you to pneumonia, or the measles, I sure as hell ain’t gonna lose you to this war. I wouldn’t be able to breathe if I lost you. So, don’t do anything stupid, alright?_
> 
> _With love from the front,_
> 
> _Bucky”_

                Considering the censors, and that Barnes was captured shortly after it was written, it had probably never been sent. Still it somehow found its way into Steve’s possession anyway. The next letter was also in Barnes’s penmanship. It looked to be in response to one of Steve’s diary like entries.

> _“Stevie,_
> 
> _Call me a nosey bastard, but I was reading over your shoulder the other day. It is definitely not worth a blue discharge. I couldn’t stand to see you locked up with the crazies because of us. I wish I could hold you too. Maybe it’s a stupid idea, but meet me during my patrol, once the Howlies fall asleep.”_

                The next one was already in an envelope, like it was ready to be sent but Steve thought better of it in the last minute. It was dated at the beginning of the USO bond tours, after Barnes had been captured.

> _“Bucky,_
> 
> _My entire life I thought that the way I felt for you was wrong, dirty. I thought it was just another thing wrong with me, like the scoliosis or the anemia or the asthma. Dr. Erskine said the serum would fix everything. He said it would make me better than normal. I was scared out of my head that I would lose you. I thought loving you was wrong, but I didn’t want to stop. I never wanted to stop._
> 
> _Coming out of the procedure I’d never felt more alive. I could breathe, my back didn’t ache, I wasn’t tired for once. It wasn’t until after the commotion that I realized, I still love you. I love you more than anything. The serum didn’t fix that, so it must not be broken._
> 
> _You haven’t replied to any of my letters in a while. I’m feeling nervous Buck. Please write me back so I know you’re okay._
> 
> _With love from fucking Jersey,_
> 
> _Steve”_

                Aubrey was going to cry. She picked up the next piece. It was creased from being stuffed in a pocket and a few terrifying dark stains turned the paper black. The writing was shaking and uneven but unmistakably Barnes’s. Instead of a date, Barnes had written “I don’t know” which was heartbreaking in its own right.

> _“Stevie,_
> 
> _This crazy Jap from Fresno was passing out paper for some god forsaken reason. I just had to write you. I know that when I die here, I’ll be cremated. Stuck in the incinerator like the garbage, but if by some miracle my body makes it home, there are some things I want you to know. Things I have to say._
> 
> _I’m terrified. I’m beyond scared, sweetheart. I know I acted all brave back home, but I miss you so much. It feels like someone ripped my heart out. What I wish for more than anything is to be back in that drafty box in Brooklyn, wrapped up in you beneath your ma’s quilt. Imagining it is all that’s kept me from losing my head._
> 
> _You’re an amazing man, Steve, so don’t get hung up on me. Find yourself a guy or doll who treats you right and be happy. I always said I was with you till the end of the line but… It looks like this is the end of mine._
> 
> _I’ve never loved anyone more than I’ve loved you._
> 
> _With love from hell,_
> 
> _Bucky”_

                Aubrey was really crying now. She leaned away so she wouldn’t ruin it. Barnes had written it while a prisoner of war, before Rogers found out he was MIA and saved him. Aubrey took a short break before picking up the last letter. It wasn’t old like the others, it was lined notebook paper covered in Roger’s loopy pen strokes.

> _“Aubrey,_
> 
> _I was in a real bad place three years ago when you gave me these letters. I had just woken up seventy years into a future I didn’t understand, and everyone I knew was dead. When I crashed the Valkyrie I was ready to die, I even wanted it, and then it didn’t work. The letters you returned to me, I won’t lie, it hurt like hell to read them, to see his face again. After waking up there was this gaping hole where he was supposed to be. The letters didn’t fill it, nothing could have, but they helped me move on without forgetting._
> 
> _I thought things would never get so bad again and then they did, because Bucky didn’t fall to his death in 1944. He fell into Hydra. They did things to him that make me sick to think about, because I feel like it was my fault (Bucky says I’m only guilty of being a punk). They made him forget who he was, made him forget everything. They made him into their weapon and sent him after me during the Triskelion incident. He had no idea who I was, but he never gave up on me, so I never gave up on him._
> 
> _These letters, though he was reading many of them for the first time, helped him remember._
> 
> _I won’t pretend everything is perfect now. It’s far from it. Hydra did things to him, forced him to do things that he’s dealing with now. Sometimes it feels like we’re barely keeping our heads above water but having him back in any form is more than  I ever could have wished for, and you helped do that. You brought back the love of my life. You helped him take his life back. I keep saying it because it’s true, there’s nothing I could ever do to thank you enough. Contact me if you ever need anything._
> 
> _Bucky and I would also be overjoyed if you could make it to our wedding._
> 
> _You’re an incredible woman, Aubrey._
> 
> _With love from Brooklyn,_
> 
> _Steve R._
> 
> _J.B. Barnes_

                Audrey laughs wetly to herself, tucking that one in her pocket. She wipes her eyes and picks up her phone.

“Hello?”

“Dr. Glencoe? You’re going to want to see this. I’ve found something that’s going to change history.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing outside perspective stuff, so let me know what you think.


End file.
